The Problem with Atheism

(This is an edited transcript of a talk given at the Atheist Alliance conference in Washington D.C. on September 28th, 2007)


To begin, I’d like to take a moment to acknowledge just how strange it is that a meeting like this is even necessary. The year is 2007, and we have all taken time out of our busy lives, and many of us have traveled considerable distance, so that we can strategize about how best to live in a world in which most people believe in an imaginary God. America is now a nation of 300 million people, wielding more influence than any people in human history, and yet this influence is being steadily corrupted, and is surely waning, because 240 million of these people apparently believe that Jesus will return someday and orchestrate the end of the world with his magic powers.


Of course, we may well wonder whether as many people believe these things as say they do. I know that Christopher [Hitchens] and Richard [Dawkins] are rather optimistic that our opinion polls are out of register with what people actually believe in the privacy of their own minds. But there is no question that most of our neighbors reliably profess that they believe these things, and such professions themselves have had a disastrous affect on our political discourse, on our public policy, on the teaching of science, and on our reputation in the world. And even if only a third or a quarter of our neighbors believe what most profess, it seems to me that we still have a problem worth worrying about.
Now, it is not often that I find myself in a room full of people who are more or less guaranteed to agree with me on the subject of religion. In thinking about what I could say to you all tonight, it seemed to me that I have a choice between throwing red meat to the lions of atheism or moving the conversation into areas where we actually might not agree. I’ve decided, at some risk to your mood, to take the second approach and to say a few things that might prove controversial in this context.


Given the absence of evidence for God, and the stupidity and suffering that still thrives under the mantle of religion, declaring oneself an “atheist” would seem the only appropriate response. And it is the stance that many of us have proudly and publicly adopted. Tonight, I’d like to try to make the case, that our use of this label is a mistake—and a mistake of some consequence.


My concern with the use of the term “atheism” is both philosophical and strategic. I’m speaking from a somewhat unusual and perhaps paradoxical position because, while I am now one of the public voices of atheism, I never thought of myself as an atheist before being inducted to speak as one. I didn’t even use the term in The End of Faith, which remains my most substantial criticism of religion. And, as I argued briefly in Letter to a Christian Nation, I think that “atheist” is a term that we do not need, in the same way that we don’t need a word for someone who rejects astrology. We simply do not call people “non-astrologers.” All we need are words like “reason” and “evidence” and “common sense” and “bullshit” to put astrologers in their place, and so it could be with religion.


If the comparison with astrology seems too facile, consider the problem of racism. Racism was about as intractable a social problem as we have ever had in this country. We are talking about deeply held convictions. I’m sure you have all seen the photos of lynchings in the first half of the 20th century—where seemingly whole towns in the South, thousands of men, women and children—bankers, lawyers, doctors, teachers, church elders, newspaper editors, policemen, even the occasional Senator and Congressman—turned out as though for a carnival to watch some young man or woman be tortured to death and then strung up on a tree or lamppost for all to see.


Seeing the pictures of these people in their Sunday best, having arranged themselves for a postcard photo under a dangling, and lacerated, and often partially cremated person, is one thing, but realize that these genteel people, who were otherwise quite normal, we must presume—though unfailing religious—often took souvenirs of the body home to show their friends—teeth, ears, fingers, knee caps, internal organs—and sometimes displayed them at their places of business.


Of course, I’m not saying that racism is no longer a problem in this country, but anyone who thinks that the problem is as bad as it ever was has simply forgotten, or has never learned, how bad, in fact, it was.


So, we can now ask, how have people of good will and common sense gone about combating racism? There was a civil rights movement, of course. The KKK was gradually battered to the fringes of society. There have been important and, I think, irrevocable changes in the way we talk about race—our major newspapers no longer publish flagrantly racist articles and editorials as they did less than a century ago—but, ask yourself, how many people have had to identify themselves as “non-racists” to participate in this process? Is there a “non-racist alliance” somewhere for me to join?


Attaching a label to something carries real liabilities, especially if the thing you are naming isn’t really a thing at all. And atheism, I would argue, is not a thing. It is not a philosophy, just as “non-racism” is not one. Atheism is not a worldview—and yet most people imagine it to be one and attack it as such. We who do not believe in God are collaborating in this misunderstanding by consenting to be named and by even naming ourselves.


Another problem is that in accepting a label, particularly the label of “atheist,” it seems to me that we are consenting to be viewed as a cranky sub-culture. We are consenting to be viewed as a marginal interest group that meets in hotel ballrooms. I’m not saying that meetings like this aren’t important. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think it was important. But I am saying that as a matter of philosophy we are guilty of confusion, and as a matter of strategy, we have walked into a trap. It is a trap that has been, in many cases, deliberately set for us. And we have jumped into it with both feet.


While it is an honor to find myself continually assailed with Dan [Dennett], Richard [Dawkins], and Christopher [Hitchens] as though we were a single person with four heads, this whole notion of the “new atheists” or “militant atheists” has been used to keep our criticism of religion at arm’s length, and has allowed people to dismiss our arguments without meeting the burden of actually answering them. And while our books have gotten a fair amount of notice, I think this whole conversation about the conflict between faith and reason, and religion and science, has been, and will continue to be, successfully marginalized under the banner of atheism.


So, let me make my somewhat seditious proposal explicit: We should not call ourselves “atheists.” We should not call ourselves “secularists.” We should not call ourselves “humanists,” or “secular humanists,” or “naturalists,” or “skeptics,” or “anti-theists,” or “rationalists,” or “freethinkers,” or “brights.” We should not call ourselves anything. We should go under the radar—for the rest of our lives. And while there, we should be decent, responsible people who destroy bad ideas wherever we find them.


Now, it just so happens that religion has more than its fair share of bad ideas. And it remains the only system of thought, where the process of maintaining bad ideas in perpetual immunity from criticism is considered a sacred act. This is the act of faith. And I remain convinced that religious faith is one of the most perverse misuses of intelligence we have ever devised. So we will, inevitably, continue to criticize religious thinking. But we should not define ourselves and name ourselves in opposition to such thinking.


So what does this all mean in practical terms, apart from Margaret Downey having to change her letterhead? Well, rather than declare ourselves “atheists” in opposition to all religion, I think we should do nothing more than advocate reason and intellectual honesty—and where this advocacy causes us to collide with religion, as it inevitably will, we should observe that the points of impact are always with specific religious beliefs—not with religion in general. There is no religion in general.


The problem is that the concept of atheism imposes upon us a false burden of remaining fixated on people’s beliefs about God and remaining even-handed in our treatment of religion. But we shouldn’t be fixated, and we shouldn’t be even-handed. In fact, we should be quick to point out the differences among religions, for two reasons:


First, these differences make all religions look contingent, and therefore silly. Consider the unique features of Mormonism, which may have some relevance in the next Presidential election. Mormonism, it seems to me, is—objectively—just a little more idiotic than Christianity is. It has to be: because it is Christianity plus some very stupid ideas. For instance, the Mormons think Jesus is going to return to earth and administer his Thousand years of Peace, at least part of the time, from the state of Missouri. Why does this make Mormonism less likely to be true than Christianity? Because whatever probability you assign to Jesus’ coming back, you have to assign a lesser probability to his coming back and keeping a summer home in Jackson County, Missouri. If Mitt Romney wants to be the next President of the United States, he should be made to feel the burden of our incredulity. We can make common cause with our Christian brothers and sisters on this point. Just what does the man believe? The world should know. And it is almost guaranteed to be embarrassing even to most people who believe in the biblical God.
The second reason to be attentive to the differences among the world’s religions is that these differences are actually a matter of life and death. There are very few of us who lie awake at night worrying about the Amish. This is not an accident. While I have no doubt that the Amish are mistreating their children, by not educating them adequately, they are not likely to hijack aircraft and fly them into buildings. But consider how we, as atheists, tend to talk about Islam. Christians often complain that atheists, and the secular world generally, balance every criticism of Muslim extremism with a mention of Christian extremism. The usual approach is to say that they have their jihadists, and we have people who kill abortion doctors. Our Christian neighbors, even the craziest of them, are right to be outraged by this pretense of even-handedness, because the truth is that Islam is quite a bit scarier and more culpable for needless human misery, than Christianity has been for a very, very long time. And the world must wake up to this fact. Muslims themselves must wake up to this fact. And they can.


You might remember that Thomas Friedman recently wrote an op-ed from Iraq, reporting that some Sunni militias are now fighting jihadists alongside American troops. When Friedman asked one Sunni militant why he was doing this, he said that he had recently watched a member of al-Qaeda decapitate an 8-year-old girl. This persuaded him that the American Crusader forces were the lesser of two evils.
Okay, so even some Sunni militants can discern the boundary between ordinary crazy Islam, and the utterly crazy, once it is drawn in the spilled blood of little girls. This is a basis for hope, of sorts. But we have to be honest—unremittingly honest—about what is on the other side of that line. This is what we and the rest of the civilized, and the semi-civilized world, are up against: utter religious lunacy and barbarism in the name of Islam—with, I’m unhappy to say, some mainstream theology to back it up.


To be even-handed when talking about the problem of Islam is to misconstrue the problem. The refrain, “all religions have their extremists,” is bullshit—and it is putting the West to sleep. All religions don’t have these extremists. Some religions have never had these extremists. And in the Muslim world, support for extremism is not extreme in the sense of being rare. A recent poll showed that about a third of young British Muslims want to live under sharia law and believe that apostates should be killed for leaving the faith. These are British Muslims. Sixty-eight percent of British Muslims feel that their neighbors who insult Islam should be arrested and prosecuted, and seventy-eight percent think that the Danish cartoonists should be brought to justice. These people don’t have a clue about what constitutes a civil society. Reports of this kind coming out of the Muslim communities living in the West should worry us, before anything else about religion worries us.


Atheism is too blunt an instrument to use at moments like this. It’s as though we have a landscape of human ignorance and bewilderment—with peaks and valleys and local attractors—and the concept of atheism causes us to fixate one part of this landscape, the part related to theistic religion, and then just flattens it. Because to be consistent as atheists we must oppose, or seem to oppose, all faith claims equally. This is a waste of precious time and energy, and it squanders the trust of people who would otherwise agree with us on specific issues.
I’m not at all suggesting that we leave people’s core religious beliefs, or faith itself, unscathed—I’m still the kind of person who writes articles with rather sweeping titles like “Science must destroy religion”—but it seems to me that we should never lose sight of useful and important distinctions.


Another problem with calling ourselves “atheists” is that every religious person thinks he has a knockdown argument against atheism. We’ve all heard these arguments, and we are going to keep hearing them as long as we insist upon calling ourselves “atheists. Arguments like: atheists can’t prove that God doesn’t exist; atheists are claiming to know there is no God, and this is the most arrogant claim of all. As Rick Warren put it, when he and I debated for Newsweek—a reasonable man like himself “doesn’t have enough faith to be an atheist.” The idea that the universe could arise without a creator is, on his account, the most extravagant faith claim of all.


Of course, as an argument for the truth of any specific religious doctrine, this is a travesty. And we all know what to do in this situation: We have Russell’s teapot, and thousands of dead gods, and now a flying spaghetti monster, the nonexistence of which also cannot be proven, and yet belief in these things is acknowledged to be ridiculous by everyone. The problem is, we have to keep having this same argument, over and over again, and the argument is being generated to a significant degree, if not entirely, over our use of the term “atheism.”


So too with the “greatest crimes of the 20th century” argument. How many times are we going to have to counter the charge that Stalin, Hitler, and Pol Pot represent the endgame of atheism? I’ve got news for you, this meme is not going away. I argued against it in The End of Faith, and it was immediately thrown back at me in reviews of the book as though I had never mentioned it. So I tackled it again in the afterword to the paperback edition of The End of Faith; but this had no effect whatsoever; so at the risk of boring everyone, I brought it up again in Letter to a Christian Nation; and Richard did the same in The God Delusion; and Christopher took a mighty swing at it in God is Not Great. I can assure you that this bogus argument will be with us for as long as people label themselves “atheists.” And it really convinces religious people. It convinces moderates and liberals. It even convinces the occasional atheist.


Why should we fall into this trap? Why should we stand obediently in the space provided, in the space carved out by the conceptual scheme of theistic religion? It’s as though, before the debate even begins, our opponents draw the chalk-outline of a dead man on the sidewalk, and we just walk up and lie down in it.


Instead of doing this, consider what would happen if we simply used words like “reason” and “evidence.” What is the argument against reason? It’s true that a few people will bite the bullet here and argue that reason is itself a problem, that the Enlightenment was a failed project, etc. But the truth is that there are very few people, even among religious fundamentalists, who will happily admit to being enemies of reason. In fact, fundamentalists tend to think they are champions of reason and that they have very good reasons for believing in God. Nobody wants to believe things on bad evidence. The desire to know what is actually going on in world is very difficult to argue with. In so far as we represent that desire, we become difficult to argue with. And this desire is not reducible to an interest group. It’s not a club or an affiliation, and I think trying to make it one diminishes its power.


The last problem with atheism I’d like to talk about relates to the some of the experiences that lie at the core of many religious traditions, though perhaps not all, and which are testified to, with greater or lesser clarity in the world’s “spiritual” and “mystical” literature.
Those of you who have read The End of Faith, know that I don’t entirely line up with Dan, Richard, and Christopher in my treatment of these things. So I think I should take a little time to discuss this. While I always use terms like “spiritual” and “mystical” in scare quotes, and take some pains to denude them of metaphysics, the email I receive from my brothers and sisters in arms suggests that many of you find my interest in these topics problematic.


First, let me describe the general phenomenon I’m referring to. Here’s what happens, in the generic case: a person, in whatever culture he finds himself, begins to notice that life is difficult. He observes that even in the best of times—no one close to him has died, he’s healthy, there are no hostile armies massing in the distance, the fridge is stocked with beer, the weather is just so—even when things are as good as they can be, he notices that at the level of his moment to moment experience, at the level of his attention, he is perpetually on the move, seeking happiness and finding only temporary relief from his search.


We’ve all noticed this. We seek pleasant sights, and sounds, and tastes, and sensations, and attitudes. We satisfy our intellectual curiosities, and our desire for friendship and romance. We become connoisseurs of art and music and film—but our pleasures are, by their very nature, fleeting. And we can do nothing more than merely reiterate them as often as we are able.


If we enjoy some great professional success, our feelings of accomplishment remain vivid and intoxicating for about an hour, or maybe a day, but then people will begin to ask us “So, what are you going to do next? Don’t you have anything else in the pipeline?” Steve Jobs releases the IPhone, and I’m sure it wasn’t twenty minutes before someone asked, “when are you going to make this thing smaller?” Notice that very few people at this juncture, no matter what they’ve accomplished, say, “I’m done. I’ve met all my goals. Now I’m just going to stay here eat ice cream until I die in front of you.”


Even when everything has gone as well as it can go, the search for happiness continues, the effort required to keep doubt and dissatisfaction and boredom at bay continues, moment to moment. If nothing else, the reality of death and the experience of losing loved ones punctures even the most gratifying and well-ordered life.


In this context, certain people have traditionally wondered whether a deeper form of well-being exists. Is there, in other words, a form of happiness that is not contingent upon our merely reiterating our pleasures and successes and avoiding our pains. Is there a form of happiness that is not dependent upon having one’s favorite food always available to be placed on one’s tongue or having all one’s friends and loved ones within arm’s reach, or having good books to read, or having something to look forward to on the weekend? Is it possible to be utterly happy before anything happens, before one’s desires get gratified, in spite of life’s inevitable difficulties, in the very midst of physical pain, old age, disease, and death?


This question, I think, lies at the periphery of everyone’s consciousness. We are all, in some sense, living our answer to it—and many of us are living as though the answer is “no.” No, there is nothing more profound that repeating one’s pleasures and avoiding one’s pains; there is nothing more profound that seeking satisfaction, both sensory and intellectual. Many of us seem think that all we can do is just keep our foot on the gas until we run out of road.


But certain people, for whatever reason, are led to suspect that there is more to human experience than this. In fact, many of them are led to suspect this by religion—by the claims of people like the Buddha or Jesus or some other celebrated religious figures. And such a person may begin to practice various disciplines of attention—often called “meditation” or “contemplation”—as a means of examining his moment to moment experience closely enough to see if a deeper basis of well-being is there to be found.


Such a person might even hole himself up in a cave, or in a monastery, for months or years at a time to facilitate this process. Why would somebody do this? Well, it amounts to a very simple experiment. Here’s the logic of it: if there is a form of psychological well-being that isn’t contingent upon merely repeating one’s pleasures, then this happiness should be available even when all the obvious sources of pleasure and satisfaction have been removed. If it exists at all, this happiness should be available to a person who has renounced all her material possessions, and declined to marry her high school sweetheart, and gone off to a cave or to some other spot that would seem profoundly uncongenial to the satisfaction of ordinary desires and aspirations.


One clue as to how daunting most people would find such a project is the fact that solitary confinement—which is essentially what we are talking about—is considered a punishment even inside a prison. Even when cooped up with homicidal maniacs and rapists, most people still prefer the company of others to spending any significant amount of time alone in a box.


And yet, for thousands of years, contemplatives have claimed to find extraordinary depths of psychological well-being while spending vast stretches of time in total isolation. It seems to me that, as rational people, whether we call ourselves “atheists” or not, we have a choice to make in how we view this whole enterprise. Either the contemplative literature is a mere catalogue of religious delusion, deliberate fraud, and psychopathology, or people have been having interesting and even normative experiences under the name of “spirituality” and “mysticism” for millennia.


Now let me just assert, on the basis of my own study and experience, that there is no question in my mind that people have improved their emotional lives, and their self-understanding, and their ethical intuitions, and have even had important insights about the nature of subjectivity itself through a variety of traditional practices like meditation.


Leaving aside all the metaphysics and mythology and mumbo jumbo, what contemplatives and mystics over the millennia claim to have discovered is that there is an alternative to merely living at the mercy of the next neurotic thought that comes careening into consciousness. There is an alternative to being continuously spellbound by the conversation we are having with ourselves.


Most us think that if a person is walking down the street talking to himself—that is, not able to censor himself in front of other people—he’s probably mentally ill. But if we talk to ourselves all day long silently—thinking, thinking, thinking, rehearsing prior conversations, thinking about what we said, what we didn’t say, what we should have said, jabbering on to ourselves about what we hope is going to happen, what just happened, what almost happened, what should have happened, what may yet happen—but we just know enough to just keep this conversation private, this is perfectly normal. This is perfectly compatible with sanity. Well, this is not what the experience of millions of contemplatives suggests.


Of course, I am by no means denying the importance of thinking. There is no question that linguistic thought is indispensable for us. It is, in large part, what makes us human. It is the fabric of almost all culture and every social relationship. Needless to say, it is the basis of all science. And it is surely responsible for much rudimentary cognition—for integrating beliefs, planning, explicit learning, moral reasoning, and many other mental capacities. Even talking to oneself out loud may occasionally serve a useful function.


From the point of view of our contemplative traditions, however—to boil them all down to a cartoon version, that ignores the rather esoteric disputes among them—our habitual identification with discursive thought, our failure moment to moment to recognize thoughts as thoughts, is a primary source of human suffering. And when a person breaks this spell, an extraordinary kind of relief is available.
But the problem with a contemplative claim of this sort is that you can’t borrow someone else’s contemplative tools to test it. The problem is that to test such a claim—indeed, to even appreciate how distracted we tend to be in the first place, we have to build our own contemplative tools. Imagine where astronomy would be if everyone had to build his own telescope before he could even begin to see if astronomy was a legitimate enterprise. It wouldn’t make the sky any less worthy of investigation, but it would make it immensely more difficult for us to establish astronomy as a science.


To judge the empirical claims of contemplatives, you have to build your own telescope. Judging their metaphysical claims is another matter: many of these can be dismissed as bad science or bad philosophy by merely thinking about them. But to judge whether certain experiences are possible—and if possible, desirable—we have to be able to use our attention in the requisite ways. We have to be able to break our identification with discursive thought, if only for a few moments. This can take a tremendous amount of work. And it is not work that our culture knows much about.


One problem with atheism as a category of thought, is that it seems more or less synonymous with not being interested in what someone like the Buddha or Jesus may have actually experienced. In fact, many atheists reject such experiences out of hand, as either impossible, or if possible, not worth wanting. Another common mistake is to imagine that such experiences are necessarily equivalent to states of mind with which many of us are already familiar—the feeling of scientific awe, or ordinary states of aesthetic appreciation, artistic inspiration, etc.
As someone who has made his own modest efforts in this area, let me assure you, that when a person goes into solitude and trains himself in meditation for 15 or 18 hours a day, for months or years at a time, in silence, doing nothing else—not talking, not reading, not writing—just making a sustained moment to moment effort to merely observe the contents of consciousness and to not get lost in thought, he experiences things that most scientists and artists are not likely to have experienced, unless they have made precisely the same efforts at introspection. And these experiences have a lot to say about the plasticity of the human mind and about the possibilities of human happiness.
So, apart from just commending these phenomena to your attention, I’d like to point out that, as atheists, our neglect of this area of human experience puts us at a rhetorical disadvantage. Because millions of people have had these experiences, and many millions more have had glimmers of them, and we, as atheists, ignore such phenomena, almost in principle, because of their religious associations—and yet these experiences often constitute the most important and transformative moments in a person’s life. Not recognizing that such experiences are possible or important can make us appear less wise even than our craziest religious opponents.


My concern is that atheism can easily become the position of not being interested in certain possibilities in principle. I don’t know if our universe is, as JBS Haldane said, “not only stranger than we suppose, but stranger than we can suppose.” But I am sure that it is stranger than we, as “atheists,” tend to represent while advocating atheism. As “atheists” we give others, and even ourselves, the sense that we are well on our way toward purging the universe of mystery. As advocates of reason, we know that mystery is going to be with us for a very long time. Indeed, there are good reasons to believe that mystery is ineradicable from our circumstance, because however much we know, it seems like there will always be brute facts that we cannot account for but which we must rely upon to explain everything else. This may be a problem for epistemology but it is not a problem for human life and for human solidarity. It does not rob our lives of meaning. And it is not a barrier to human happiness.


We are faced, however, with the challenge of communicating this view to others. We are faced with the monumental task of persuading a myth-infatuated world that love and curiosity are sufficient, and that we need not console or frighten ourselves or our children with Iron Age fairy tales. I don’t think there is a more important intellectual struggle to win; it has to be fought from a hundred sides, all at once, and continuously; but it seems to me that there is no reason for us to fight in well-ordered ranks, like the red coats of Atheism.


Finally, I think it’s useful to envision what victory will look like. Again, the analogy with racism seems instructive to me. What will victory against racism look like, should that happy day ever dawn? It certainly won’t be a world in which a majority of people profess that they are “nonracist.” Most likely, it will be a world in which the very concept of separate races has lost its meaning.


We will have won this war of ideas against religion when atheism is scarcely intelligible as a concept. We will simply find ourselves in a world in which people cease to praise one another for pretending to know things they do not know. This is certainly a future worth fighting for. It may be the only future compatible with our long-term survival as a species. But the only path between now and then, that I can see, is for us to be rigorously honest in the present. It seems to me that intellectual honesty is now, and will always be, deeper and more durable, and more easily spread, than “atheism.”

Guilt

I've come to the realization that the most prevalent currency in my life is GUILT. I often tell folks that I skip trips and events to save money or vacation time. But I'm really just working off guilt. When I work off enough guilt, I might become brave enough to forray into a brief expedition and max out the credit card of my concience. Then I come back to reality and start paying off my debt again ... 'till the next episode.

Letters from Drew Dawg

My boy Drew's going to be in Singapore for a couple of years. These are his letters.

=============================================================

Singaporeans and Asians are brilliant at integrating the environment amongst the buildings and roads. My drive into work is like driving into the bat cave; there are huge banzai trees planted everywhere on each side of the road. The branches overhang the road creating a cave and at 56MPH you really cannot see the through to the other-side of the express way or buildings. It’s my piece of serenity as I drive into work, unless there is someone pruning the plants. What are they doing on the side of the road? There are no bright orange cones or advance warning. I think safety is left up to the employee rather than the employer.

I spent most of the week shopping for furniture. Aside from having someone to talk to, the most interesting part is that I haggled over everything; never pay sticker price. However, they continually try to sell you things that you are neither interested in nor need. “It’s a good deal, you have to buy it.” It’s like going to a strip club and the girl you’ve just rejected says, “Don’t you think I am pretty? You make up some lie why you don’t want the goods or service, just so the salesperson goes away. But they throw in the hungry kids at home. They make you feel like you owe her something because she took the time to try to sell you. Singapore isn’t the only market like this, India was the same way. Especially rugs; rugs that only your grandma can love. Anyway, I digress. So I managed to haggle for everything from furniture to electronics; ten to forty percent. After the first haggle, subsequent negotiations came easy. Sometimes I haggled to get the price down, sometimes just so I could talk to someone when I wasn’t at work. The only place I didn’t haggle is IKEA; did I mention that I went there like five times? No major furniture, but if you want dishes, shelves, hangers, etc., IKEA is the place to go.

Moved into the Apartment in the middle of the week; its difficult keeping the 15th floor cool enough to hangout. You have to moderate between coolness and utility bills. Electricity is expensive in Singapore. So expensive, they forgot to put outlets in the bathroom! In order to have hot water, you need to flick a switch and wait three minutes. Amazingly, the hot water tank is either well insulated or it is outside, because I can turn it on once every couple of days and the water is fine for showers and the dishes. Which brings me to my next point; there is no dishwasher. So I have to do my dishes by hand; where’s my mum?

Burnt up the power supply of the Xbox. In my zeal to start playing Halo 3, I simply plugged the US plug into the adapter and into the wall. Despite the fact that the Power Supply is the size of a mini-cooler, Microsoft in its infinite wisdom decided that the voltage should only go up to 120V without fuse protection; Singapore is 200V so spark, crack, pop and no Halo 3 for me. Good thing for eBay; 90 bucks later and a new Power Supply is coming from the U.K. Soon I will be sticking the great Ardattack. So the lesson here is to check the stickers of your electrical device to see whether you can just plug in an adapter or whether you will need an electrical transformer ($100) for your US devices.

On Saturday I went for a jog; to the left of my apartment building is a golf course and the sea. Unfortunately, the sea is littered with giant cargo ships like the ants in a line in a California kitchen sink. Nonetheless it is a good place to jog, ride bikes or roller blade as the paved path is under trees and some views of the water. On Sunday, I went for another jog except this time I went to the right; on that side is an inlet and bay. There was a rowing club made of young boys and girls; those coaches were really working them; it reminded me of the Myrmidons as they raced each other. It was like 30C, with the sun reflecting off the water, those kids must have been hurting. Serves em right for getting in my way at the market. Ha ha.

I also found out that I live next to the Singapore Indoor Stadium; I think its true when bands say “I am really big overseas” because there are interesting bands playing there; like Mega-death, Heaven and Hell (Black Sabbath reunited with Ronnie James Dio do you remember “What do you wanna do with your life? I WANNA ROCK!”) – you know you do. All the old hair bands play there and on the radio. Nonetheless, on the 22nd The Black Eyed Peas are playing so I am going to try to get a ticket. I also found a softball coach during the run, and he gave me a number to a baseball and softball league set up by the American Expats. Finally, some peeps to relate too; America, BBQ burgers, and Heineken bottled in the USA at US prices because we were on the US base. Had my first beer on Sunday; completely buzzed after a beer in a half. I detoxed for nearly two weeks after the debauchery of my going way party in Santa Monica.

For being a Service Oriented country, these people suck at it; there is no sense of urgency. Seriously, I called to schedule a cab and was on hold for ten minutes and when I finally got through the lady said can you hold while I find a cab? Five minutes later, and she comes back; she says, there are no cabs answering. What the hell? In a city where there are more cabs than personal cars (seriously) and I can’t schedule a cab? You have to call cabbies to get them to come? Can’t you just put it into the computer, lie to me and tell me that it will be there in 15 minutes and show up in 20?

Enough for now, stay tuned for week three - I am in Korea.

Andrew

Ballers, EMail, Pink Uniforms

Last winter Colin and I started playing on an Eastside team that plays on Saturdays. We also still play on our old team in the Westside league that plays on Sundays. Anyhooo ... the team we're playing against next week in our Saturday league wears pink uniforms. I don't know why. They're actually a decent team and whoever wins next week will most likely win the division and get #1 seed for the playoffs.

The following is an email thread that started when one of our players (BA) forwarded a few scouting tips from a player on another team that had already played "Pink Team". With all the spy-gate fiasco and the Partriots off-field issues I got a kick out of this. It doesn't seem so funny today but it made me laugh yesterday so what the heck ... And yes, Football players CAN type and be funny too. Don't act surprised. Except for names, nothings changed.

---------------------------------------------

From: BA
Sent: Thursday, October 04, 2007 10:08 AM
To: Captain X
Subject: Tips on playing Team Pink

Captain X,

I was hoping to get some scouting on Team pink.
What formations they run etc?

Thanks!

BA

---------------------------------------------

From: Captain X
To: BA
Sent: Thu Oct 04 11:23:22 2007
Subject: RE: Tips on playing Team Pink

Team Pink at 3-0. WTF!!! You need to do something about that this weekend. :)

The big thing that ill tell you about TP is to watch their huddle. Their QB does a "hang loose" hand signal in the huddle which means they are running the same play from the reverse side. We may hopefully see TP in the playoffs so please dont tip them off and make it obvious you are picking up on that

Historically when i think TP i think option and a 2 back set. They gave us option only once and it was to their left. It was just with the RB (no FB) and i did notice he was wider split then normal. I dont recall them blitzing or rushing 4.

---------------------------------------------

Date: Thu, 4 Oct 2007 12:28:50 -0700
From: BA
To: Team
Subject: Team Pink Info

Out of respect to Captain X, don't make it obvious we picked up one of their signals.

---------------------------------------------

From: Me
To: Team
Subject: RE: Team Pink Info
Date: Thu, 4 Oct 2007 12:30:50 -0700

Why would they use signals in their huddle? Are they deaf? Do they have a guy with a big bass drum on the sidelines calling the snapcount? Wierd. But the RB stance on option is a good tip.

---------------------------------------------

From: Tex
Sent: Thursday, October 04, 2007 12:36 PM
To: Team
Subject: RE: Team Pink Info

They huddle so you think they are running a new play. Hang loose.

They also use shadow puppets to call the hook and ladder. So if you see a flash light out there be ready.

---------------------------------------------

Subject: RE: Team Pink Info
Date: Thu, 4 Oct 2007 12:40:13 -0700
From: JB
To: Team

I think they like to huddle so that they can exchange fashion tips on the lastest pink clothing lines.

---------------------------------------------

From: Me
To: Team
Subject: RE: Team Pink Info
Date: Thu, 4 Oct 2007 12:42:36 -0700

I heard their captain was furious when one of the players showed up in Fuschia. As punishment, his leg warmers were taken away and he was relegated from "front row" to "Backup" dancer in the season ending musical play "Cats" that the team performs at the community theater in Tacoma.

---------------------------------------------

From: Tex
Sent: Thursday, October 04, 2007 12:46 PM
To: Team
Subject: RE: Team Pink Info

I have a pink bandana that I am going to wear around my shin like Chung Li in BloodSport to remind Van Damn that he smoked his friend in an earlier fight.

Code Monkey Like You

Looks like someone read my earlier blog about code monkeys and made a video using World of Warcraft Animation. Love this song. Incidentally, the singer is the same cat that did the "Baby Got Back" cover a few blogs ago. Funny how things tie together sometimes.

The Most Fitting Last Name

This guys name definitely fits.

Snoop DeLoop

More Covers. Gin & Juice is the most widely covered hip hop song from Country to Swing. I just might have to put 2 versions on. This one's by the Gourds. Enjoy.

Nina Gordon Rules

She even kept the original video.

Downside of BEP

I used to love BEP 'till they sold out and took on that anorexic crack smoker.

Nice ironic video to put their new BS in prespective.

Classic!

Classic cover.

Greatest Cover Song of All Time

I'm dedicating the next few posts to be best hip-hop covers of all time. This one definitely takes the cake but there more coming up soon. While some go to prove that the lyrics, taken out of context, are still powerful and have their own poetic merit, other show you just how assanine the song really is once you take out base and g-strings.

My Dope

When the sun is out, I feel like a drug addict. I crave the beach, the feel of the ball rocketing off my hand, the sand between my toes, the screaming and shouting of the other players. I am often able to aquire this drug when I need it but my plight is still that of the addict. When it rains, I feel cured. Sometimes I like the rain. It gives me peace.

Shift Happens

I don't know if you should be scared or excited for my kids. All my hard-earned lessons in life may be useless to them.

Double Doozy

Do 2 wrongs make a right? Do 2 lies cancel each other? Does a rip off of a rip off yield an original thought?

Probably not. But I still like this ad.

Cultural Patterns

Check out how eerily similar (and super hillarious) these 2 calls are:

http://www.shaarique.com/guy-caught-cheating-by-his-wife/

http://www.betterloverseminar.com/desi_wife_catches_husband

"Thanks for teaching me the ways of American Love."

- Raj

Happy Holidays

For all you chums out there, like me, who get down in the dumps over your aches and pains, here's a tribute to you. Enjoy.

Seattle City Champs - 2006

What a great season. We went undefeated (10-0) and won the Seattle Metro Championship. Some freaky stats for this season:

- In 5 out of our 10 games we shut out the other team in the 2nd half.
- We only punted 4 times the entire season (2 in the championship game)
- I think we threw 0 interceptions (not 100% sure about this one but can't recall any)

Unfortunately our good season may get us kicked out of the league next season since other teams complained that our team is stacked with ex pros even though this isn't really true. Although, everyone except 3 or 4 guys did play in college with a couple of guys that played baseball in college instead.

See more pics from this season in my Football Album.

Monkey Love

Remember my earlier post about being a Monkey?

My Definition of Concentration

You run a drag across the middle,
The ball is a bit too high and bit too late
You throttle down, leap, and twist to make the catch,
you hear footsteps,
when you wake up,
they tell you that you held on

My Favorite Minute of the week

Lately, my Saturday morning routine has consisted of taking Max to the gym with me while Jen takes Riley to swim lessons. I'm not sure it's because he's with me or the fact that Riley's not there but every time I drop Max off at the gym daycare he gets real sad and quiet. He doesn't move and when I try to get him to play with some toys he just grabs and holds on to my leg. I squat down and begin to play with the toys to get him involved but he just hugs me and burries his face in my neck. I look forward to these 60 seconds every week.

Superbowl Flashback

Watching the Bengals get raped on that terrible "roughing the passer" call reminded me of last years superbowl officiating fiasco. The owners must really be stressing QB protection to the refs bacause this is the 2nd time this season that a bullshit call like this has changed the outcome of the game. How can you call roughing the passer on a Sack? And a relatively mild one at that. Judge for yourself.

Sleepin' at the wheel and takin' it up the caboose

A while ago, a buddy of mine sent a few of this friends (author included) a link to this article by Mort Zuckerman about the decline of leadership in America. It pondered the question of why America is failing to produce decent political leaders despite the vast intellectual tallents of her citizens. I replied with my own worthless 2 cents and asked another buddy (henceforth referred to as "The Rev") what he thought about the topic.

His response was pretty deep and thought provoking so I decided to document it below.

==============================================================

Ardi,

My thoughts are:

1. We have no great leaders today because corporations and special interest groups have bought and sold essentially every politician in Congress, and of any stature in the executive branch. It's not that politicians are less idealistic today than 100 or 200 years ago, it's that corporations and special interest groups are now extremely efficient and very competitive about buying off any available figure in power. The only difference is that 50 or 100 or 200 years ago, there weren't enough corporations and special interest groups around with enough "soft money" to buy off anyone with power. If you are head of the FDA one year, you are on the Board of Pfizer the next. If you are Deputy Secretary of Defense one year, you are on the Board of Boeing the next. That is how things are done in Washington and absent laws that prevent these conflicts of interest this will only intensify. Because the people who make laws to prevent these sort o f conflicts of interest are the ones who benefit by these arrangements, they have no incentives to enact such laws.

2. "Democracy, liberty and freedom." First off, we're not a democracy and never have been. A democracy means a government run by all voting age citizens--participating and making important decisions. The closest, and probably only time, the planet came close to a democracy was fifth-century B.C. Athens when 10% of the adults participated in a "democracy". Technically speaking, our government is an aristocratic (or plutocratic) republic. (note: aristocratic means government by the best or elite, not government by nobility; plutocratic means government by the rich). We're a bit like ancient Rome with TV. Maybe this isn't a bad thing, because as Plato and Edmund Burke both famously pointed out, letting a bunch of uneducated, illogical, easily swayed mobs decide how to run the country might not be the best idea, c.f. The Jerry Springer Show. Even one of the great champions of modern d emocratic ideals, Winston Churchill, said, "Democracy is the worst possible form of government known to man--except for all the others." "Liberty" is a nice catchphrase as well, but "liberty" to do what? Uncoupled from responsibility it means a license to cause whatever harm you like. Ditto for "freedom".

Now in saying this, I'm not bashing America. Our constitution is still a model for the world, and I don't believe any country, in any age, has ever premised its foundation on a plan as fair and comprehensive as ours. But...

3. ...when we talk about "American values", I don't think this has much meaning. It's like saying we have "an awesome vibe" or "great feelings" or "something terrific". "American values" is not a tangible and measurable thing nor does it refer to something tangible and measurable. It's very easy for a politician or partisan pundit or journalist to bandy about the phrase "American values" without ever saying anything of substance. I don't think anyone can make a good argument though that the roughly 10,000 Iraqi civilians that we have killed due to "collateral damage" is a good way to export "American values."

What we ought to be exporting instead is our legal system and our economic system. While free market capitalism has its own shortcomings and inequities, its a hell of a lot better than living in a country with no political rights, no jobs, and a lack of basic necessities.

Of course, exporting our legal system and economic system to other countries--which would improve the lives of the people there--and give them a taste of why Americans think and act in certian ways, i.e. imparting our "values"--does not give us special access to a country's resources, which leads me to...

4. Fact: The value of Dick Cheney's stock options in Halliburton have increased between $10 and $20 million since 2003 as a direct result of the Iraq War. Fact: Cheney proposed invading Iraq the night of the 9/11 attacks. Fact: All CIA intelligence presented to the President supporting or not supporting a war in Iraq was ordered in 2002 to be vetted through the Office of the Vice President first, a role the Vice President had never been involved in during the previous 200+ years of U.S. History. Fact: Halliburton was awarded contracts to rebuild infrastructure in Iraq without having to submit to the standard bidding process. Fact: Halliburton has overbilled the US government and American taxpayers to the tune of over $10 million since 2003. Fact: Halliburton was recently awarded an expanded (again, no bid contract) despite this fraud. Fact: On Spetmeber 2 3, 2003, Cheney said on NBC TV's Meet The Press, "I've severed all my ties with the company, gotten rid of all my financial interest. I have no financial interest in Halliburton of any kind and haven't had, now, for over three years." Fact: At the time he said this, he had stock options in Halliburton worth $8 million.
Are we really in Iraq in order to export "American values"? I don't think so. Where can you find the startling "secret" facts listed above? The 9/11 Commission Report and various reports from the Government Accounting Office. Are most Americans completely asleep at the switch? Yes.

5. Am I surprised most American are totally asleep at the switch? No. In the past ten years, the FCC has done away with conflict of interest regulations that for decades maintained a somehwat independent news media in this country. This was done under the leadership of FCC Chairman Michael Powell. Perphaps you've heard of his father?--guy by the name of Colin. Instead of hundreds of competing news sources in this country--which we had growing up in the 70's and 80's, we now have a situation where 90% of TV, film and radio and 50% of newspapers are controlled by six large media conglomerates. Of these six large conglomerates, the CEO's of three have created and funded right-wing think tanks. One of these parent corporations also happens to be one of the military's largest suppliers--GE/Westinghouse.

6. So yeah, you can probably gather I am gravely disappointed with US foreign policy over the past several years as well as with rampant corruption in our government, and I think most journalists write what their bosses tell them to write or go hungry. However, the fault probably does not lie entirely with government officials. Plato said in The Republic that there can be no just political order without just citizens. Yet, today citizens of liberal democracies worldwide are much more concerned with how their government functions than the private vices of the citizens within them. Likewise, modern citizens are much more comfortable talking about rights than duties. Put another way, one might say that we are much more concerned with the rights of people, than the capacities of the people with those rights. So when we talk about "American values" it is probably worth questioning what that phrase means. Does it mean the political rights enshrined in our Constitution or does it mean the collective ethical strength (or weakness) of the nation as a whole. Quite simply, are we as ethically honest and willing to sacrifice for the common good as we were 30 or 60 or 90 years ago? If the answer is "no", then we have to collectively question how we can, as a nation, export American notions of fundamental political rights when we have shrugged off the duties to our neighbors and community that accompany those rights. For example, we hold dear the notion of freedom of speech, but 30 or 60 or 90 years ago, almost no one would have driven down the street with a car stereo cranked up wailing, "F*** tha' Police!" Today, most people shrug and say that this is protected speech, and like it or not, we should be tolerant of it even if we don't like it. 30 or 60 or 90 years ago, however, the debate would have instead centered not on rights, but on duties...is it responsible to drive down the street doing this? Answer=no--it' s loud and offensive to others who live around you and thus you shouldn't do it, even if you have a right to. Our culture has shifted from one of a balance between rights and duties to one of a bold assertion of rights. So, when people around the world question "American values" perhaps their criticisms are not entirely without merit. If we are talking about exporting our values, then aren't we talking about exporting the whole package, not just the best parts?

7. About 50 years ago our country went down a dangerous path (the Red Scare), so did a country in central Europe about 70 years ago, and so has our country today. In each case, a country was stirred to action by fear of pollution by degenerates from both inside and outside the country, in each case the people were given a message of apocalyptic transformation of their supposedly endangered nation through military action and national solidarity and through leadership that was authoritative and unchallengeable. In each case, rights were taken away from the people and the country was steered down a path that benefitted those in power rather than the people. These regimes occurred not because people didn't think, but precisely because people did think, albeit in an environment that was poisoned by the wrong ideas, ideas that may not have even impacted much of the population on a conscious level initially.

It's part of our human tribal instinct to retreat in situations of fear and seek the protection of those with power, even if that means giving up much that is precious to us to those who wield power. Of course, the sharing of power, and the maintenance of basic human rights is what our Constitution was supposed to establish and protect. Here's to hoping that it still serves that need...

This journalist can talk all he wants about liberty, freedom, equality, and the rule of law but those terms don't mean jack unless they actually describe conditions that exist in our country and are reflected in our behavior towards the rest of the world. And when a journalist writing in 2006, places Washington and Lincoln on a pedestal above current leaders he needs to go back and do a little reading on history. Washington was a staunch loyalist who only flipped sides when the British refused him a commission as a regimental commander in the British Army. In 1776, the year we signed the Declaration of Independence, he kicked all blacks out of the Continental Army and sent them back to slave holders. He was a second-rate general and he almost lost the war in 1776-77 due to his poor strategies. These are not facts they like to stress in the history books. Lincoln came round to the emancipation proclamation o nly after four years of war and only when it became strategically convenient. Before that, the War had been a conflict between northern industrial interests and southern agricultural interests.

(P.S. One thing the author has half correct. We are the most generous country on Earth. We have given literally trillions of dollars in foreign aid over the last few decades. What most people don't realize however, is that the majority of this aid has been in the form of discounted arms sales. Maybe I'm cycnical, but perhaps this isn't the "gift to the world" we want to be our legacy.)

The Pain of the Game

I was starting to forget how violent, beautiful, & fun this game can be. Don't worry, the hits don't hurt as bad as they look. I think the most painful moment in this game is when you realize you can't play anymore.

Turn up your sound.

Smiley Face

But what did you do?
What did you say?
Did you walk or did you run away?
Where are you now?
Where have you been?
Did you come alone or did you bring a friend?

I need to know this
cause I noticed
you're smiling
Out in the sun,
having fun
and feeling free

And I can tell you know how hard this life can be
But you keep on smiling for me

What went right?
What went wrong?
Was it a story or was it a song?
Was it overnight or did it take you long?
Was knowing your weakness what made you strong?

Or all the above, oh how I love to see you smiling
And oh yeah, take a little pain just in case
You need something warm to embrace
To help you put on a smiling face

Dont you go off into the new day with any doubt
Here's a summary of something that you could smile about
Say for instance my girlfiend, she bugs me all the time
But the irony of it all is that she loves me all the time

I want to be you whenever I see you smiling
Because its easily one of the hardest things to do
Your worries and fears become your friends
And they end up smiling at you

Put on a smiley face

- Ceelo

I could go on and on and on ...

Basically I'm complicated
I have a hard time taking the easy way
I wouldn't call it schizophrenia
But I'll be at least 2 people today

If that's okay

And I can go on and on and on... but who cares?

It's deep how you can be so shallow
And I'm afraid cause I have no fear
And I didn't believe in magic
Until I watched you disappear

I wish you where here

And I can go on and on and on... but who cares?

You see, everybody is somebody
But nobody wants to be themselves
and If I ever wanted to understand me
I'd have to talk to someone else

Cause every little bit helps

And I can go on and on and on... but who cares?

Feels like
the surreal life
But it's still nice
Wish I could live twice
but I still might
if these bones heal right
I see a little light
though it's still night

And I can go on and on and on... but who cares?

- Ceelo

On the political tip

Too bad somalia doesn't have have oil. Otherwise, the poor people of Somalia would have been worthy of liberation too. Just like the poor citizens or Iraq.

Clinton is on crack. Asking oil companies to contribute funds to alternative energy research is like asking right wing bible beaters to contribute funds for new abortion clinics.

Dubyah's puppy bites back. Apparenty he can't even set up a puppet government correctly.

We're no better. Frankly I'm not so sure that we're even the LESSER of 2 evils.

Crazy

I love the new single by Gnarls Barkley. Ceelo always packs the coolest lyrics since the Goody Mob days.


I remember when I lost my mind
there was something so pleasant about that phase
Even your emotions had an echo
in so much space

And when you're out there
without a care,
Yeah I was out of touch
But it wasn't because I didn't know enough
I just knew too much

Does that make me crazy?
Probably

And I hope that you are having the time of your life
But think twice
that's my only advice
Come on now, who do you think you are?
Ha ha ha bless your soul
You really think you're in control?

Well, I think you're crazy
Just like me

My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on a limb
and all I remember is thinking was I want to be like them
Ever since I was little, it looked like fun
And it's no coincidence I've come
And I can die when I'm done

Maybe I'm crazy
Maybe you're crazy
Maybe we're crazy
Probably

- Gnarls Barkely

Cheeseburger in Paradise

I just got back from my brother's wedding in Jamaica. What a strange trip. I definitely learned some new lessons on this one.

1) Do NOT travel with children under 3
2) Do NOT stay at resorts in remote places and no fridge in the room
3) Always make sure you have independent transportation (car, bike, motorcycle, etc.)

Miami / Boca

We flew out to Miami last Saturday. The flights from Seattle to Dallas and Dallas to Miami were pretty tough with the kids. Max was very wiggly and didn't want to sit still. Finally got picked up by Gina at the airport. The next day, Justin and I watched our 4 kids while the girls went to some parties and a music festival. After they got back, Justin and I went to Miami for Khasha's bachelor party. We had dinner at Perl and partied on Nikki Beach all night. It was a great time. We drove home at 10:00 am with no sleep and once again watched the kids and played in the pool most of the day while the girls were gone. Took a nap in the afternoon and grilled up some BBQ for dinner in the late afternoon. It was a good feeling. The kids were all running around and entertaining each other in Justin's big house. Slept like a champ that night and took off to Jamaica the next day.

I had a lot of time to chat with Justin on this trip. He's matured a lot and we got pretty deep.

Montego / Negril

Our arrival in Jamaica got off to a rocky start. I got swindled by a porter who grabbed my bags while I was wrestling with the kids' stroller and moved our stuff 30 yards and asked for a tip. Then I got yelled at by a customs agent for tipping the porter. I guess you're not supposed to. I wonder why the porter didn't get yelled at for asking for tip? Strange set up. They we get shuttle to our car rental place since it's not actually at the airport. They didn't have the car seats we had requested. I should mention that I'm very proud of Jen for not freaking out and riding in the car without car seats.

When we get to our resort/hotel I once again get hijacked by a porter while talking to the lady at the front desk. I'm fiercely independent (almost to a fault) and get extremely irritated when folks open doors for me or carry me bags or offer any other services which I really don't want/need. But to have it forced on me agitates exponentially. Of course I didn't want to come off as a cheap-skate so I just let the poor bastard roll our luggage up to the room.

The next couple of days were spent swimming in the pool or ocean with the kids and going to rehearsal dinners, family functions, etc. All this was done in between and while negotiating bouts of vomiting and diarrhea by Max.

I should mention another lesson learned/observation here. Our first few days in Miami/Montego Max was his usual hyper healthy self. We was either sprinting down the airport isles, fearlessly diving into pools despite lack of floatation devices or ability to swim, or practicing his WWF moves on mommy and daddy while sitting in airplanes. All this required me to be in 24/7 alert mode. I was constantly running, jumping, lifting and didn't have a moment's peace. I was proud of his vigor but kept complaining about the fact that I could not relax for one single moment. Around day 5 Max got sick and severely dehydrated. He would spend the day lying in bed with half glazed look on his face. It tore me apart. I felt terrible for whining and complaining about his hyperness and wished for it to come back as soon as possible. I learned a lesson. Some of life's challenges are unrecognized blessings.

I got to meet Rachel's family and really liked them. They seem genuine, passionate, and direct. There is no guile or posturing in them and they love Khasha.

The Big Day

The wedding was beautiful. Like a true warrior Max resurrected himself long enough to attend the wedding and do his part as ring bearer (he was back to sick the next day). He was dressed in white pants, blue shirt, and black sandals like all the other grooms men. Riley looked like a dream in her flower-girl and floral tiara. The photos were during the mid-day sun and holding and wrestling with Max got us both hot and sweaty. The kids were all over the place during the wedding. Riley stepped on Rachel's head dress and yanked her head back. Max cried towards the end and was all over the place the rest of the time. Everyone thought it was cute but I was sweating it a bit. The dinner and reception was a lot of fun. Max fell asleep in a gym bag.

Last Day

We decided to go to Negril the next day but Jen got scared when she heard news of violence around the Island. So we went to the Ritz but Max pooped all over himself and me so we went back to the hotel to clean up and let him get some rest. I took off with a group of the guys and went to Negril. We had a fun adventure getting there and jumped off the famous Rick's Cliff. We also played some volleyball at Alfred's beach bar. It was a good day. I got an earful from Jen when I got back for leaving her in the room with the kids all day.

2 more lessons learned:

1) I LOVE my home
2) My job is a peaceful refuge.

The Truth About 9/11

CLICK HERE FOR THE TRUTH

I'm not really sure where to start or what to say after seeing this. Although there's nothing here that I didn't already know or suspect, the culmination of the facts and detailed data is astounding. This isn't the liberal media twisting the truth. These are not the rantings of a whiney Democrat angry about not getting his way.

Forget what you believe in. Forget whose side you're on. Look at the facts and ask yourself. Is it all BS? Is the altenative explanation provided by the government MORE plausible? I'll shut up now. Take some time. Tune in. And really pay attention. Check out these 3 videos on the truth about 9/11 and what really happened at the WTC.

CLICK HERE FOR THE TRUTH

Riches to Rags

Ever notice how clothes have a way of getting demoted? Some people throw clothes away but I usually keep them around for sentimental or practical reasons. I was mowing the lawn the other day and I happened to glance down at the old, ripped up hiking boots I usually wear for yard work. I started to think about all the clothes that we wear during important or epic times in our lives and how years later, they become demoted to the basement like Milton in Office Space. Then it occurred to me that maybe it's not the clothes that get demoted. Maybe it's the owner’s life that evolves into a catatonic abyss and the clothes follow the owner's demise.

Here's my list of the top clothing downfalls of all time:

- The boots that braved the Amazon rainforest now mow the lawn.
- The fleece that climbed Machu Pichu now takes the kids on Sunday morning strolls.
- The shorts that partied on the beaches of Ibiza now go to the gym.
- The jeans that rolled at all-night raves now roll around in rat poo under crawl spaces and are not even allowed in the house
- The gloves that saved fingers in Fernies 20 below cold snap now pull weeds.
- The shirt won at the city championship game now crawls under the car for oil changes.

So what does this all mean? Heck, I don't know. Probably that I'm too immature to accept adulthood and choose to whine about it in this blog. Just be thankful I'm not bitching about my lower back.

I had to wear a tie today

After all the work and effort I put into guiding my career in the right direction, I find myslef in the last place I wanted ... a monkey suit. Apparently I guided it a bit too well. Perhaps the gods read my last blog and decided to play this practical joke on me.

Truth is, the whole company had to get snazzed up for a visit by Korean suppliers. Apparently they don't business with companies that don't employ tie wearing programmers. I can't complain though. At least I didn't have to sit through long, tense meetings with them like I did back at Boeing.

I'm a tie-wearing, ass-kissing, washed-up monkey in a monkey suit.

In Your Monkey Suit
You Look Just Like A Monkey

There You Go
There You Go
There You Go
But You Ain't Goin' Nowhere

You Got Money
You Got Money
You Got Money
But It Ain't Buyin' you Nothin'

In Your Monkey Suit
In Your Monkey Suit
In Your Monkey Suit
You Just Look Like A Monkey

- Plasmatics

I'm just a code crunching, ball pounding, monkey in a tree

On New Years Eve 2000, while most of the country was hiding in their basement and preparing for armageddon, I recall having an off the wall conversation with my brother and a friend at another buddy's NYE party. They were in their usual wine induced philosophy frenzy, discussing the meaning of existence and conciousness. When they asked my opinion I simply replied: "I'm just a monkey on a tree." At first they laughed but then they got it and eventually convinced each other that it was actually a brilliant philosophy.

Now I wouldn't go so far as to calling it brilliant but I think as people we simply forget to be primates sometimes. A primate's needs are simple. A primate can sit in a tree and think about nothing. Primates don't have 401Ks, celebrities, or cock-suckers like Oprah and Dr. Phil teaching them that they're inferior to each other. Primates don't sweat the NASDAQ or kill each other for worshiping invisible beings different than theirs.

Also, primates don't invest their self-worth and identity in athletic performance. Sadly, I do. In high school and college it was football. Accepting that I'd have to seek employment somewhere other than the NFL was a tough pill to swallow for my young Texas-raised mind. Eventually I moved on and fell back on other fun sports like skiing, volleyball, and wakeboarding. But now, with my recent back injury, I've been once again forced to contemplate throwing away a big chunk of myself. I almost cried in the Chiropractor's office as I confessed to him that other than my kids, sports is the only wholesome and decent thing I have left in my life. I think if I wasn't so goddamn stubborn, and just took a chill pill for a couple of weeks I'd heal up. But, sadly, my inability to do nothing is perhaps my biggest weakness. And so the injury cycle continues.

I finally played last night for the first time since coming back from Thailand. It was the season ending tournament and I didn't want to leave James high & dry. I showed up an hour early, ran, stretched, and slowly warmed up. My back had been feeling a bit better but not as much as I'd like for it to. I was concerned about reaggravting it and was having a tough time getting loose and pain free. I didn't jump serve and relegated all blocking to James. When he served I'd give him the block signals, except they were for him, not me. Lots of pros play this way but not many people around here. For some reason, this approach worked out. We won all the way through to the finals but by that point my back and hamstrings had completely siezed up on me and we lost to a team we had beat earlier in the day. Even if I was healthy it would have been a good day. But given the circumstances, it was a nice ray of sunshine, albeit short-lived, in this dreary drama. I woke up today feeling sore and mildly aggravated. Finally saw a physical therapist today. He seems to know a lot. I hope to learn more from him. So much of what we've been taught as athletes in the 80's and 90's is proving to be inaccurate and incomplete. Static stretching vs Dynamic stretching. Muscle isolation vs compound movements. I had to swallow a lot of new info and maybe throw away even more. I hope these changes will help. Throwing away 2 decade long habbits will not be easy.

So how did we get from talking about primates to listening to my self-absorbed whining about my failing body? Cuz I wanted to ... that's why.

Speaking of throwing away old habbits, the switch from ColdFusion to C# hasn't been too bad so far. Although the platform is more code intensive and C# is a very non-intuitive language, I'm managing to build things that work and the users are happy. The telesence in Visual Studio is also very useful and informative. That, plus the MSDN library and the books I read before starting have made things relatively easy for me. So far so good. I'll post a more detailed rant on C# and the .NET platform later. I'm sure you're peeing your pants with anticipation for that one. Well, you'll just have to tie a knot in it and cool off, tiger.

I'm just a code crunching, ball pounding, monkey in a tree. My special talent is that I can be a has-been and a wanna-be simultaneously without causing a space-time-continum paradox and toasting the whole planet.

This is the strangest life I've ever known.

- Jim Morrison

Fatality

I'm lame. You come here looking for wisdom and inspiration but I have nothing for you. Just some words from the Stones. A bit jaded at the moment. I'll be back soon. Hang in there.

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see a line of cars and they’re all painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a new born baby it just happens every day
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and it has been painted black
Maybe then I’ll fade away and not have to face the facts
It’s not easy facin’ up when your whole world is black
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the settin’ sun
My love will laugh with me before the mornin’ comes
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I wanna see it painted, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black

- Stones

Thai Media

Finally collected and cleaned up all the Photos and Videos from the Thailand Trip. I'm back to studying C# before starting the new job next week. Having a tough time turning on the left brain and shutting down the right brain. Maybe a couple more days will help. Might be going over to Orondo to scope out some vacation property I'm going in for with Khasha. Not sure how we're going to afford it but it's a good investment. I want the kids to have something like that.

My way stuck in Taipei

I sold my soul to the devil, and the price was cheap
And it's cold on this level cause it's twice as deep
But you don't hear me
Ignorance is bliss and so on
Sometimes it's better to be thought dumb
Shall I go on?

-DMX

I just got booted off the plane in Taipei and told that my flight to Seattle is delayed for 4 hours. So I bluffed my way into the China Airlines VIP lounge to use the internet and let loved ones know I'll be late. But I think I'll stick around for a while. The free cookies and tea are very yummy and the couches don't hurt my back. A fella could get used to this.

A strange thing happens when you spend too much time in airports. You start seeing people and constantly trying to figure out where they're from, where they're going, and other details about them. Sometimes you're right on the money. Other times you're way off. I get a lot of looks for being non-asian. I can't tell if it's curiosity, admiration, or disdain.

I'm ready for home. I miss the fam ..... Stay tuned for the massive photo and video collection from Thailand. I'll post them as soon I download them off Mack's Arcos.

I reminisce
try to clear up all the myths
for an imaginary kiss
with you again
Not even friends
though I wish that I could mend
like a tailor and be Olive Oil's number one sailor
I ams what I ams, still I falls like an anvil
She's heavy on the mind sometimes it's more than I can handle
But men aren't supposed to tumble into the den B
Macho, but I hancho like Pancho will give in
Family oriented, but not Oriental
A dame is supposed to claim ya even if you drive a Pinto
A hero is a sandwich and a manwich is a meal
A marriage is a paper, are they fakin' or for real?

-Pharcyde

Purple Haze - Don't teez the deez

It's been a long time since my last post from Thailand. A lot has happened and I will no doubt fail to recall all the details but I'll do my best. One of the reasons I haven't written in the blog is because I've been busy. The other reason is that I wanted to make sure I was in a positive mind-state when I wrote. Certain events have been a bit overwhelming to deal with and therefore, I was't sure if I'd be able to write anything worth reading. Anyway, for what it's worth, here's the rest of the story ...

Budda's Revenge

The day after my last post I woke up early to fullfill one of my new vows which was to run at least 2 out of 3 days. I wake up to find Mack already awake, he gives me his WWF stare down and points at his gel-formed mohawk. He tells me it's his "running do". Kewl. Let's do it.

We run all the way down to the end of Chaweng beach and do sprint intervals on the way back. I feel great. Lungs, legs, everything is solid. Then, out of boredom perhaps, we do these running drills where I run and change directions based on Macks signals. Forward, Backward, left, right, and 4 corners diagonnally. They're sand drills intended to give you better feet and defensive reflexes for volleyball. I don't know if it was the slanted beach, the 2 days of pounding on the bikes, or my minor back injury before I came here. For whatever reason, something went really wrong and I had the worst lower back tweak I've ever had. Sitting, standing, & walking all become a massive challenge. I'm an old fuck-head.

I fell a bit better after shower and breakfast. The guys talk me into getting a Thai massage. HUGE mistake. I come out worst than before. Now I'm REALLY fucked. They suggest another day on the bikes (brilliant) and I agree (genius). We go to the south end which we haven't been to yet and check out some ancient fishing villages. On the way back, we stop at an intersection in the middle of no where. I see a truck with a Monkey on the back drive by. I watch the monkey, gun it to catch up with truck and keep watching him. Small detail ... when you gun the throttle like you're on concrete but you're really on sand here's what happens. Your back tire shoots out to the left and your right elbow drops. This cranks the throttle down even more, exacerbating the situation. Then your front wheel cranks right and you flip over. You skin your shouder. This last part is optional but I chose it for the full experience.

Luckily, a chicken shack at the corner had 1st aid and some friendly Russian nurses nearby were kind enough to clean me up. This process was a bit embarassing since all I wanted was to get out of there. The eyes staring at me burned more than the alcohol swabs wiping sand out of my skinned back. Towards the end Mack comes by and encourages us to attend the "Snake Show" at the other corner. So now I get parraded to the 2nd corner at the same intersection. The snake show was actually kind of cool. I even let the guy put scorpions on my arm since I figured after my morning back injury and afternoon bike wreck, god couldn't possibly keep fucking with me anymore. We got pics of the scorpions, my back, and other cool stuff.

After the show, I get paraded to corner #3 for some skewered chicken. Once the fellas had ensured that the Thais had had their fill of staring and laughing at the idiot American who wrecks his bike at 3 mph, we headed back home. We had a fun dinner on the beach where I got beat in checkers twice a by a fat 10 year old kid who went around the beach betting foreigners. Granted I was on painkillers and Vodka by this point, but I lost very fast & easy. The fellas had a good laugh about it. I returned my motorcyle and booked boat tickets to Koh Tao leaving the next morning for all 3 of us. Needless to say, I went to bed early and slept in the fetal position crying all night.

House of Pain

We get up early and catch the boat to Koh Tao. Packing is excruciating. Putting the pack on and off is even worse. I try not to complain too much even thought I know I do. Mack laughs at me. Matt helps me. I'm glad I don't have to be tough around him.

The cutest little girl insisted on playing cards with us and listening to our mp3 players on the pier. I got pics of her. Little butterball.

While on the boat someone tells us that the full moon party is actually on the 13th, not the 14th. We also find out that the boat is stopping at Koh Phangan on the way to Koh Tao. After stepping up the line of scrimmage and reading the defense I call an audible and change the game plan at the last second. We're getting off in Koh Phangan. Pooping on the boat was quite an ordeal. I won't go into details.

We get off and start looking for a beach-front bungalow close (but not too close) to the main party on Haad rin beach. We don't find anything beach front that works for us but we end up staying at a brand new (we were the 1st occupants) bungalow just off the beach at Bayshore Bungalows. Perfect. We spend the rest of the day swimming and chilling on the beach and checking out dive shops. We also find out that the full-moon v-ball tournament is cancelled due to the reconstruction of the bar that hosts it. We're a bit relieved due to my back and Matt's knee problems but I'm also a bit torn at the same time. I'd been thoroughly consumed with training for this tourney for over a year. It was the light at the end of the tunnel that kept me motivated to eat clean, train hard, and play in freezing weather. And now ... just like that ... poof ... the light is gone.

The next day we rent snorkels and explore the rock formations all the way north to the next beach. It is deserted. I stretch. We swim back. My back feels better but not nearly ready enough to play volley ball. I fall asleep on the beach. When I wake up, Matt's gone. I ask Mack where he is, but he just laughs at me. I see Matt playing v-ball. Mack laughs harder. It hurts. Kinda like watching your girlfriend making out with some other guy.

He have dinner and finalize our dives. We decide to go diving with Phangan Dive Shop. The owner and main dive master is a stocky long haired Swiss named Alex who looks just like Sammy Hagar from Van Halen. He was intelligent, articulate, laid back, and funny. We trust him. We book with him.

We head out of for a bite and plan to go to bed early but get temporarily side tracked when we get invited to a beach party somwhere else on the island. We go. It's fun & different but we cut out early due to our morning dives.

The next day goes well, we go to Shark Island near Koh Tao and I pass my 1st of 2 days of open water dives required for my certification. Visibility is poor but I'm just glad that the cert process in under way. The guys decide to skip diving the next day due to poor visibility. I go anyway since I just want to get certified. I meet a guy named Manuel on the boat. He runs an e-commerce site out of Amsterdam that sells Marijuana seeds. He's very intelligent and well-travelled. We get along great. I pass everthing and officially get certified. I go to the beach with Manuel and he meets the fellas. He takes off to dinner with Mack. I sit and watch Matt cheat on me some more with some little Israeli dude named Udi. He actually turns out to be a super cool guy. My back's feeling fine now and I want to play but Matt insists that I wait one more day per the game plan. 2 days of diving and no stress have helped the healing process along quite well.

That night we go out and celebrate. I had not partied since I got to the Island and I was ready to seriously kick it. We celebrate 3 things:
1) Matt's Birthday
2) My certification
3) My healing

We kick it Sea-Town style, Deez-like, call it what you want. We have a blast on the beach, meet lots of people, and party like little boys. It was great. We were definitely the stars of the Island that night (maybe just in our own minds).

I sleep great and attack the beach ready to take out all my pent up aggression on the v-ball court. I win a couple of games with Matt and then he grabs a bite to eat. I team up with a Danish guy named "Moegens" (Pronounced "Muntz") and we rattle off another 5 wins before losing a close one to a Swedish Team of "Johan & Johan". My back is not 100%. I can't jump serve, but manage to play within my limits and have a fun, pain-free day. That night I meet up with Muntz and his girlfriend and some other Danish & Sweedish folks for dinner. He ends up getting real drunk and leaving his girlfriend with some other gals. The two of us walk around the Island and drink buckets of Samsung. It's a good time. He's very funny and intelligent.

The game plan for the next day was to drink some "Special" Koh Phangan shakes and climb some waterfalls north of Haad rin that have to be reached by boat. We stop at a place called Purple Haze where a Macaque (Monkey) stole my shades. I could not get them back. The bastard was so quick. Finally, I took a shiny blue carbiner off Matt's back pack and sorta traded it with the Monkey for my shades. We got the whole thing on video.

Once we drink the shakes, however, Matt and Mack melt into the Sand and I do what I do. Muntz is eating nearby but he's EXTREMELY hung over. I team up with an Amazing Australian named Jim. He's not only a great player, he's also a great person in general. His wife helps me with my back pains and gives me advice on how to take care of it. We don't lose the entire day. I eventually stop playing due to back pain.

Matt: "How can you be playing volleyball right now?"

Ardi: "It's the only thing I know how to do."

We're like Jim Morrison and Ray Manzarek except on the beach instead of the dessert.

We go out and have more fun that night. Frankly, I can't recall the details. The next day we keep our promise and do climb the waterfalls, albeit sans-shake. It's a good climb and we do some small cliff dives at the top. The challenge on these dives was getting to the edge using vines as ropes. We swim through a little cave and explore some more. We go to a Thai Boxing match which was pretty cool and go out briefly but take it easy since the following night is the full moon party.

The day of the party is spent playing more v-ball. I can feel the repeated back injuries sapping the snap out of my core and legs. My 1st step is very slow and I'm not jumping very high. I play poorly but go all out and play 'til sundown since I know it's my last day of playing. I have dinner on the beach right next to the courts wrapped in a towel and laughing with friends. As coldplay would say (1st song, 1st album) We live in a beautiful world.

The full moon party is great. So many colors, lights, music, and strange people. I curse myself for forgetting to charge my camera battery despite Mack reminding me. We see so many strange, funny, and beautiful things and I wish I could have took pictures of them. We see people passed out on the beach and their freinds building sand castles on them. We see a 300 lb woman who can't get out of 2 feet of water. We see a guy who spends the entire party just digging a hole in the beach. We see people with strange body paint. We walk, watch, & laugh. I loved it.

We watch the sunrise on the beach with 1000's of others and euphoric Robert Miles cuts. We go to our rooms, pack, and catch the boat to Koh Tao with no sleep.

Koh Tao

After my first trip to Thailand, if you were to ask me about the most beautiful place I've ever been, I'd say it was Koh Tao and possibly Kauai 2nd. If you were to ask me that today, you'd get the same answer. Koh Tao is the smallest and northern-most most Island in the Surithani province. It is very primitive and primarily a diving heaven. There's something surreal and almost cartoonish about the way the trees, rocks, and buglows are all interwined with each other on the hillsides and jagged cliffs. It's almost as if Dr. Seuss was hired as the architect and told that the only rule is you can't move or destroy any rocks or trees when you build the bungalows. Unreal.

All the bungalows and dive shops are intertwined so you usually dive with the place you stay and save $ in the process. We stayed at Sairee Hut. They had a brand new dive shop and super cool dive masters.

We check in, swim, clean up, have dinner and go to bed super early since we got a dive the next morning and no sleep from the night before. I stay up a little later and chat with Jeff, an American from North Carolina who now runs the artificial ski slope in Dubai. What a crazy job.

We get up at 7:00 the next day. We walk 50 yards and we're on the boat by 7:30 and under water by 8:30. That's what's so cool about Koh Tao. Everthing is so close and convenient. The dives are cheap and take no time. You can do 2 dives by noon and still have the whole day to do other stuff. And that's exactly what we do. We dive in the morning and explore the Island on motor bikes the rest of the day. We go to a bay on the Southern end of the Island called Shark Bay (for good reason). It required us to take our little toy mopeds off road. I have video footage of some of the trail. It was comedy (& terror). We skin dive with black tip sharks. I swam next to one that was the same size as me for close to 30 seconds. A small 3 foot one attacked Matt and he had to fight it off with his fins. I'd hate to see what the 7 footer would have done to me.

We eat a snak at the same place we rented snorkels from, right on the beach. The beach is surreal. It has bush-like trees growing right in the middle of it, almost creating separate rooms on the beach for extra privacy and something to hang hammocks on. I really like the owner. He was very hospitable and kind. The kind of person you'd read about in the Celestine Prophecy. He has an older relative (dad/brother) that drinks samsung all day, sings, and teases the owners little daughter. It's a beautiful vibe all around.

We ride our bikes up a treacherous hill to the highest point on the Island, to a place called Happy Days to catch the sunset. We drink Opium tea. We get severly sick. It was hell. Matt and I puke (repeatedly) right over the edge into the jungles below. Each trip to the bathroom is like a long walk on a boat in rough seas. This is not the warm, fuzzy, blissful effects of opium that I'd read about all my life. We keep waiting to stabilize enough to ride our bikes back. Eventually we give up on that plan, stumble down the hill, and catch a pickup truck taxi back. There was something nostalgic and endearing about the whole exprience. I felt like shit but I somehow knew the whole thing sounded cool on paper and for whaterver reason that made it a bit more bareable. 3 buddies poisened on bad opium on a small primitive Island in SE Asia. As the Deeez would say: "How cool am I?" Well ... I was cool enough to puke in an alley as we went to the store to get some gatorade for rehydration.

Couple of symptoms we had to battle that night:

1) Severe Itching: I kept coating myself in bug repelent but I was itching all over like crazy.
2) Inability to Urinate: I also kept drinking fluids to stay hydrated and clean my system out. But none of us could pee so the fluids would build up and we'd eventually puke it all out.

Eventually we fell asleep and woke up around 11:00 feeling a bit better but not even close to 100%. We had a 1:00 pm dive booked so we had some breakfast and head back south to get our bikes. Boy oh boy, the walk up the hill in that state in the noon sun and full humidity was biblical. We were walking up the mountain of our past sins with gods vengence beaming down upon us with no mercy. Classic.

I actually felt a lot better once I got on the bike. By the time we got on the boat I was good to go. The dive was great fun and we went out that night and partied the old fashioned way.

The fellas left the next morning. I woke up long enough to say goodbye and move my stuff into a smaller bungalow for 1 person. Passed out again and woke up at 1:00 to a knock on the door. The dive master was waking me up for my dive. Only in Koh Tao.

It's another great dive. On the way back I grab some pineapple and head to the front of the boat. I sit there. I'm tanned black. I've lost weight. Got a 3 day beard. I remember seeing a picture of my dad rowing a boat when he was younger. He was thin, tanned, and looked happy. I think it was in Bandar Abbas on the Persian Gulf. I imagine that I must look a lot like him in that picture. I also realize that it's almost 5:00 pm and I'd spent the entire day asleep or under water.

Before the fellas left, I'd been telling myself that I'd enjoy a few days of alone time. What a crock of crap! I missed them. A lot. I went out to dinner and drinks with a few other divers but it just wasn't the same. I walked home alone and got some water on the way.

I always advise folks to travel alone but I guess by this point I was so hooked on the good times and fellowship that I'd been taking for granted that I just wasn't in the mood to get close to anyone else. Not cool. But true.

The next day was a dive free day. I took off and explored the entire Island on my inadeqate bike. I ended up at the same bay where we dove with the black tip sharks. I was in a deep funk but the owners recognition and hospitality was a nice treat. I ate, read, slept, swam and made my way back to Sairee. I booked another early morning dive and went to bed early. The next morning I packed and checked out before the dive. Afterwards I slept, returned my bike, and and caught a cab to the pier, jumped on a boat and arrived in Koh Samui to catch my flight to Bangkok the next morning.

As soon as I get in the truck, it starts raining. Just as we touched down in Bankgok as I finished the last sentence of my book, I was now feeling the Islands say goodbye just I begin heading out. Sad.

When I was young I used to read stories and see movies about Vietnam vets who would lock themselves in their hotel rooms for days after coming out of the bush. Never stepping out except for a quick bite and a bottle. I always used to wonder why they didn't just go out and party, get drunk, gamble, chase chicks, and live it up. After climbing Matchu Pichu, I understood.

Now I've got that feeling once again. You would not understand. This is not how I am.
- Pink Floyd

I slept in my Samui Bungalow only to step out long enough to write this blog. I'll probably eat and go back to sleep. Just blocks from the Green Mango, the central Samui party spot. Why am I so drained? I don't know. I don't like it. But hey, I've been through a lot.

I guess at the end of the day you got your friends, your family, and your teammates. And if you're really lucky ... they're all the same people. I feel painfully blessed.

Thanks for visiting. Hope to see you all again soon.

Numbah One American G.I

There are few moments in life filled with more potential than ones involving a good back pack, good company, and no particular plans. And it was in such a situation that I found myself at 4:00 a.m on Friday, March 4th, downtown Bangkok as I grabbed a cab and thew our packs in the back. We were on our way to a 6:00 am flight to Koh Samui in the Gulf of Thailand and I could feel the seeds of adventure sprouting for us. But I suppose the real adventure began a couple of days earlier.

As fate would have it, Mack and I both hurt our backs the week prior to our flight to Bangkok. He hurt himself on the bunny slopes at Chrystal Mountain (even though he'll tell you it was steep and deep) while I hurt mine playing volleyball (even thought we lost). While I had chose stretching and excercise to start the healing, Mack had fell back on his own "Deiselesque" therapy. I arrive at his house on Monday night after my weekly V-Ball game in the U-District to drop off one of two 2-way radios that we'd use to find each other in Bankok. I walk in the living room only to find it covered with random travel paraphenalia and gear. This is the Diesel method. Organized chaos squeezed into a back pack. He informs me that he's been taking some pain killers and wine to ease the pain. This, given his 2:00 am flight out and general state of affairs, scares me a bit. Plus, he seems extremely chatty and happy but not very competent. He couldn't even find a pen and I had to get one of out my car. But, he is a grown man after all so I give him the radio and some other details and head out in order to let him get back to packing.

I fly out the next day at 1:30, about 12 hours after the Deez (Mack) and look forward to reading some books that I had put off for a while during my C# studies. I end up sitting next to a Korean business man who claimed to have seen the devil and was now pursuing his degree in Theology. His plan was to join all the other Korean ministers spreading christianity in Communist China. What a swell plan! I did find the guy likeable and we did have some pleasant although strained conversation. At one point I had to escape to the back of the plane to read my book because he wanted to discuss the virtues of Christianity but every time I presented him with contradictions and falsities in the bible, he would change the topic. Eventually, I had to escape to the back of the plane and sit in the stewardess chair to read my book. After a 2 hour pit stop in Seoul (last post) I jump on the flight to Bangkok and finally take a fat chunk out of the book. I finish the last sentence as our wheels touch down. Seriously, it was pretty cool.

After a brief (90 minute) and pleasant stroll through customs where I daydreamed about root canals, I hop in a cab and tell him to take me to Khao San road. All I know was that the Deez would be there and he would have turned the radio I gave him on around midnight. My cab driver is very enthusiastic about making small talk. Minor problem ... he doesn't speak english. This, as it turns out, isn't really considered a problem in Thailand. The art, is in being able to "Pretend" that you understand. Even it if leads to you doing ridiculous things and wasting other peoples time. I don't remember it being this bad last time but maybe I was just younger with less venom in my veins.

Anyway, I begin to reflect in the cab and think about my ride from the airport last time I was here. That time, Seth's driver picked me up in his black mercedes and took me to his high-rise penthouse. This time I was headed to the seediest part of town to sleep in a $12 room with plastic sheets and no TP. And I couldn't be happier. Wouldn't trade it for Donald Trumps toupe' OR his polyurethane wife.

I hit the call button on the radio a few times but no response. Finally, as I'm pulling my bag out of the trunk the radio crakles.

"Ardi?"

"DEEEEEEEZ!"

"Are you here?"

"Yeah, where are you?"

"I'm at the crkh#$#$yert"

"What?"

"*&(FDDTTD*^*^"

"OK ... Any other landmarks?"

It goes on like this for a while. Finally (sadly) we choose Burger King as a landmark and meet up a few minutes later. His look tell's it all. He's got the big smile, the puffed out chest, and movie star grin goin'. I can tell he's already having a good time. I watch him expertly navigate through the transvestite prostitues as he takes me to our room. He's already a pro. Good for him.

We step out for a drink and a bite and go to bed early (kinda) after a brief stroll. I couldn't sleep since it was 10:00 am at home. I got a couple of hours of sleep and we were up to take care of all the loose ends before Matt came to town. First things first, how quick can we get outta Bangkok? We're in luck. The only flights to Koh Samui available for the next day are at 6:00 am. This means, weather we like it or not, we're leaving town EXTRA early. I wondered if I should just take my stuff with me when I go to pick up Matt at the airport and sleep for a few hours in the terminal. We decide to bring Matt back in case he wants to shower and eat. Also, this way he could see Bangkok (sorta).

The rest of the day is spent shopping, taking pictures, visiting parks, etc. A couple of funy things happened.

We were eating lunch at a small cafe and noticed our waitress acting very strange. It really didn't make any sense to us. Finally, towards the end, she asks me: "So, are you the man?" It dawned on me that she thought we were gay. We laughed it off and had a good time teasing her. But we were also curious why she would think that. We certainly didn't look the part. It turns out that we were apparently a little too involved in each others company and our lack of attention to external stuff like women, etc. was construed as gay. Fuck it, I'm glad I got a bro that's so funny he takes my mind and my eyes off women.

The other funny incident was when I accidentally gave Mack 15 baht (30 cents) for our 150 baht (4 dollar) cab ride. I was tying my shoe in the back when I heard the most violent guttural animal scream emanate from the driver. I guess that was his way of telling Mack the amount was wrong. I don't know why but that event and Mack's confused deer in the headlights look had me laughing for ever. I was walking down the street looking extra touristy with tears coming out of my eyes.

We come across an outdoor gym. I love working out in hot humid weather. If feels so good on the joints and muscles. The temperature at Bothell Golds sucks!!!!

I eat fried spiders, grass hoppers, maggots, worms, and pupae. The grass hoppers are too salty. The worms taste like dirt.

I sleep from 10:00 pm to 1:00 am and pick Matt up at the airport at 1:30. Well, closer to 2:00 since I got dropped off at the wrong terminal. I was worried that the news of the 6:00 am flight at the tail end of a 20 hour trip would bum him out but he's in great spirits. He showers, we eat, and then the moment mentioned at the intro above.

We play cards and laugh before we get on the plane. The flight is quick. I read the lonely planet book. Matt reads the diving book. We plan some dives and activities.

Chaweng Beach is on the Eastern side of Koh samui and reminds me of a 3rd world Las Vegas. Busy with lots of stores, lights, bling bling, boom boom. But at 7:00 am it's a ghost town. I find myself getting nostalgic as we pass areas of fun times last time I was here. We find a simple but big bungalow for the 3 of us and spend the rest of the day exploring the beach and streets. They get me drunk off 3 long islands. I take an afternoon nap. We go out. I start calling Mack #1 American GI due to his penchant for innocent flirtation with the prostitutes that are contantly harassing men from bars and street corners. I emphasize "Innocent". I don't want to defame him. He smiles and waves whereas I run away like a retareded school boy who just shit his pants and doesn't want anyone to know. Frankly, I like like his way better.

I get up early (8:00) the next day and visit various dive shops to plan some dives for me and the boys. I gradually realize that diving trips in Koh Samui are a waste of time and $. The reason is that they have to take you away (to Islands like Koh Tao) for dives. This increases their costs as well the travel time to and from the dive spots. 1 or 2 dives could consume your whole day. We decide that since we're going north anyway, we'll dive from there. We focus on hammering out the non-dive activities in Koh Samui and getting out of dodge asap.

While the boys were sleeping and I was learning more about the dive situation I also found some mopeds for rent. Our first destination, the infamous waterfalls. Infamous, due to the fact that Khasha a B-Sack climbed straight up the waterfall and took some pics. We were determined to out do them. I LOVE riding the bikes with no helmet and no shirt, flying though the country side roads and farms surrounded by sun, skye, palm trees, and blue waters. THIS IS South East ASIA! It is the best time I've had on this place.

The first thing we see when we get to the bottom of the waterfalls are the elephants. Rides are cheap so we jump on. They are sooooooo cool and sooooo powerful. I switch seats with the driver and he shows me how to steer and communicate with the elephant. They are very intelligent and can perform a wide variety of tasks on command.

After that we begin the climb. I stash everything behind some bushes except for a camera which I put in a ziplock back and put in the cargo pocket of my board shorts. I tighten my amphibious Solomon shoes. No socks, no weight. Both hands are free. We're off. Sweating, climbing, jumping, taking pictures, sweating, climing, sweating, climbing, slipping, scraping, pulling, sweating, climbing.

The pool at the top is great. We swim & cool off. We're just chatting away on the way down when we suddenly realize we're on a road? What? Shitsticks !!! (Matt's words). We cut back tough some farms and find the trail head. We spend more time playing with the elephants (the baby is allowed to roam free) the Macaques and Gibbons (monkeys). More great pics. We get barbequed chicken legs and pineapples from a street side vendor. We all agreed it was the best meal ever.

I was feeling so great about the activities of the day that I went right along with the plan of sharing a bucket of samsung whiskey with the fellas. Thai whiskey has amphetamines in it. I don't think I fell asleep 'til 6:00. Woke up feeling like shit and came up with my new vows. For the rest of this trip I will:

1) Not drink alcohol
2) Be in bed by 2:00 (3:00 is ok too)
3) Go running at least 2 out of 3 days.

I think leaving Koh Samui will help me out with this plan.

The last one was added when Matt and I tried peppering on the beach today and I was like a bowl of winded jello. Gotta get (stay) in shape for the full moon volleyball tournament in Koh Phangan.

Anyway, today was spent exploring the North and West side of the island. Loved it. But .... I think my spine has had enough pounding for 2 days. Tomorrow we'll hang out on the beach and arrange for our boat ride to Koh Tao. We're gonna try to catch a few days of diving before heading to Koh Phangan around the 10th.

Details will follow.

Quick Shout from Seol

I'm pit-stopping in Seol for an hour before catching my flight to Bangkok. Considering it's 1:00 am in Seattle I feel pretty good. I'm supposed to meet up with Mack Diesel when I get in at 12:30 am Bangkok time which will be about 10:00 am Seattle time. I can't sleep on planes. I guess that's a night sleep I'll have to forego. On the upside, I got a hold of an old buddy in Bangkok and hopefully we'll have a guide for our 1 or 2 nights there. I've been taking notes on some the interesting developments so far but I'll have to send you those out in a more organized and coherent posting. That's about it for now. I feel good.